


Flashbacks

by queenmab24601



Series: AGES [1]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M, Free Verse, Implied Relationships, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenmab24601/pseuds/queenmab24601
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She has these moments where she stops suddenly in the street. And she can’t breathe."<br/>A tenuous one-shot in a possible verse about the Greek gods aging through time. Will in the future deal with reincarnation, etc.<br/>For now, Artemis remaining unchanging through the centuries. But she still has that one sore spot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flashbacks

She has these moments where she stops suddenly in the street. And she can’t breathe.

It’s as though her lungs have disappeared and a cavity in her chest opened straight into her soul. People hurry past, weaving around her as if she’s not even there.

Maybe they truly can’t see her. Because it’s as if she’s thrust out of – back into? – Time and space. Acting within that older era where the elements molded themselves to her thoughts and she could hear the thoughts of every animal and could map and change the lines of forests. Could be invisible again.

There’s no pattern to these times. No set date or triggering image.

It’s just flashes over her. His laugh – hearty and broken, with a snort that always startled him into laughing again. The curve of his smile sliding over skin. The press of his mouth onto hers, barely there, always as if she dreamt it.

And, how could she have forgotten!

Kneeling in the streets, whether in a toga or petticoats or corset pinching into her waist, feeling as though she’d been shot.

        - _Eros told her after he’d died how it wasn’t his fault. It was no one’s fault, strangest of all. No invisible arrow had slid between her ribs when she’d looked on him. No magic stirring to make her delight in his hair or his eyes. And of course her father had promised her but that was so hard to believe the first time she’d realized and was so angry. How dare he sneak up on her – this mortal who’d left women behind in crumpled heaps but looked at her as if there was no greater miracle -  
_

Artemis stands in the streets. Arranges her chignon or plait or whatever it is that works to keep her hair from her eyes.  Wipes her tears so that there’s no suspicion she’d ever been crying.

In the 1920s, she wipes on red lipstick that leaves the impression of blood. And walks to her brother’s house.

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned, spin-off of a potential verse I'm working on with Apollo as the general lead.  
> Will deal with Greek gods, reincarnation, and changes in what they represent over time.  
> Hope you enjoyed reading!


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